by Taylor Dean
He felt tousled, tumbled to and fro, like he’d just entered the inside of a spinning washing machine. Then they were falling, not drifting, but an all out straight down freefall. They barreled towards the waiting earth, the force of gravity feeling like the strongest power in the universe.
And then silence as everything came to a sudden jarring halt.
Everything went black.
When Luke next awoke, immediate pain engulfed him. “Ahhhhhhh,” he yelled through gritted teeth. The pain from his right leg was overwhelming. Slight movement made him scream in agony. Finally he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. White met his eyes, the purest white he’d ever seen in his life. He wondered if he was in heaven. Slowly, he turned his head. Above him was torn, jagged metal, as if a huge monster had reached into their plane and grabbed it with his sharp claws and ripped off a piece.
This couldn’t be heaven.
His eyes wandered a little further to the left. Mr. Kelley sat very, very still in the cockpit, his head resting on the instrument panel. He turned a little further and saw Troy, blood dripping down his forehead.
“Troy, Troy . . . are you okay?”
Troy didn’t answer. When Luke tried to move, the pain in his leg hit him as if someone had just clobbered him with a baseball bat and everything went black again.
Luke felt cold, so, so cold. Freezing. His teeth were chattering and he reached for his blanket. Pain made his eyes fly open as he realized he wasn’t in his bed at home. And there wasn’t a blanket to save him from the freezing temperature.
Crying. Someone was crying.
It was Troy. He’d moved to the front seat of the plane, next to his dad. “Wake up! Dad, wake up! Please, please, please, wake up!” Luke watched as Troy shook his dad’s shoulder.
Mr. Kelley didn’t move.
Desperate, Troy pushed his dad back on his seat. His body flopped backwards, his head falling to one side. From Luke’s angle, he could see Mr. Kelley’s blood soaked shirt. His head hung in an unnatural position, facing Troy. His eyes stared at nothing in particular, blank as a mannequin’s in a store window.
He was gone. Luke knew it immediately.
Troy touched his dad’s face, patting his cheeks. “Dad! Dad! Wake up, Dad! Please!” Troy sobbed out loud, his crying turning to gut wrenching screams. “Dad! Dad!”
When his crying quieted, he turned to Luke and saw that his eyes were now open. “You’re awake,” Troy whispered as blood dripped down his face. Troy wiped his eyes with his sleeve so he could see. “My Dad’s dead,” Troy told him.
“Check his pulse, Troy. Check his wrist,” Luke said, his voice sounding gritty. With shaking hands, Troy felt his dad’s wrist.
“No heartbeat. There’s no heartbeat, Luke,” he wailed. He wrapped his arms around his dad and hugged him, uncaring of the blood, and cried out loud.
The next time Luke awakened, Troy was shaking his shoulder. “Luke! Luke! Don’t die, please don’t die!”
“I’m not dead,” Luke told him. Troy’s shirt was covered in blood and Luke didn’t know if it was from his head injury or from hugging his dad.
Luke wrapped his arms around himself, attempting to keep warm.
“Are you hurt?” Troy asked.
“Yeah. My leg. I-I think it’s broken.” His leg seemed to throb right along with his heartbeat. Beat, throb, beat, throb, beat, throb.
“Try to walk.”
Troy placed his arms on his shoulders to help him stand up. Luke cringed as red hot pain, the likes of which he’d never felt before, climbed up his body and raced through his nerves until he yelled in agony, a bloodcurdling scream that sounded as though it had been ripped from his throat. “Ahhhhhhhh!”
“Okay, don’t move. Don’t move, Luke.”
Troy stared down at him, shivering, tears streaming down his face as if he didn’t even realize it, like a faucet he’d forgotten to turn off. “We gotta get warm, Luke. We gotta get warm.”
Luke nodded. His hands and feet felt numb.
“We can’t have a fire close to the plane. We might blow up or somethin’.” Troy wiped the blood from his eyes again.
Luke looked around, his breathing felt labored and the air seemed thin. He was pretty sure they were really high up in the mountains, far away from where people lived. The snow went up to Troy’s knees. “Over there, by the trees. There’s some dry ground under a tree. At least we won’t be on the snow and we can start a fire.”
Troy looked behind them and then he glanced all around, just as Luke had done. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, aren’t we?”
“I think so. A rescue plane will come and look for us. We just gotta survive for awhile.”
“We hafta get warm. I’m gonna drag you over there, Luke. It’s gonna hurt,” Troy warned. “But I hafta do it.”
“I know.” Luke clenched his hands into fists, preparing himself.
“Wait, I think I should put something on your leg, you know, something to keep it straight. Kinda like a splint.”
“Yeah. Better do that before we move.” The thought of anyone touching his leg made him break out in a cold sweat. “Remember the emergency kit your dad showed us, the one next to our luggage. We’re gonna need it.”
“Yeah.” Troy dug around and found the large red bag that housed the emergency supplies. He found his heavy coat and put it on. Then helped Luke put on his heavy coat. That was all they had; their jeans, tennis shoes, long sleeved t-shirts, and heavy coats. Luke remembered his mom telling him he should pack thermals, a beanie, and gloves. He hadn’t listened. He wished he had them now.
Troy grabbed a t-shirt from his bag and started ripping it in strips. He walked off and returned a few minutes later with a small branch. One of the t-shirt strips was now wrapped around his forehead and tied at the back of his head. He looked like a ninja, but it kept the blood out of his eyes. Troy held scissors from the first aid kit.
“I’m gonna take a look at your leg, okay?”
Luke nodded.
Carefully, Troy cut his blood soaked jeans up to his knee. His calf looked weird, like it was crooked and shorter than his other leg. It was swollen and misshapen. Something hard pushed out of his broken skin, causing a huge bump.
“Luke, is that your bone sticking out?” Troy’s voice wavered unsteadily.
“Y-yeah, I think so.”
His leg was covered with blood and the surrounding area had turned black and blue. The sight made him feel sick and dizzy. Luke leaned over and threw up in the plane. He’d never eat pancakes and syrup again in his life.
“Gross,” Troy muttered under his breath. He handed Luke one of the torn t-shirt strips and he wiped off his mouth with it.
“I have to do it, Luke. I have to.” Troy’s eyes looked kind of wild and crazy, like he was real scared. Luke was too.
When Troy tied the first strip to his leg, Luke screamed at the top of his lungs.
“Knock it off, you’re gonna cause an avalanche or somethin’.”
Luke didn’t remember the rest. He blacked out. When he woke up, he was laying on the hard, cold patch of ground under the tree. Troy was dragging the emergency kit across the deep snow, following his former tracks. There were long slide marks going across the snow, mixed with a trail of blood, where Troy had dragged him. The sight made Luke shiver. He wondered if his leg had even more damage from moving it, but he hoped not. His pain wasn’t any worse than before, but he was glad he’d been unconscious for the excruciating trip across the snow. His leg felt like a huge leech had attached itself to him and was sucking the life out of him, slowly and painfully. Either that or a wolf had clamped onto his leg with his razor sharp teeth and was refusing to let go as he gnawed on his leg like a dog with a bone. Luke suppressed a scream, knowing it would freak Troy out. He gritted his teeth and clamped his hands into fists, concentrating on Troy.
The snow was deep and Troy stumbled a few times, falling flat on his face, then cursing and getting back on his feet. Finally, he lan
ded unsteadily onto the ground under the tree. At least they’d found a rare spot with no snow. Luke stared at the remains of the plane, aghast. “The plane . . .” he said under his breath. The view from this vantage point made his skin crawl.
Troy began to rummage through the emergency kit. “We almost landed just fine. The snow was too slippery. Dad couldn’t stop the plane. Then we went off the stupid cliff.”
The plane rested against a sheer wall of rock. Looking up, Luke couldn’t see the cliff edge they’d fallen from. It was as high as the tallest tree. The torn open cockpit of the Cessna gaped at him, mocking him like a huge monstrous jaw. One of the wings had been ripped off, torn from the body of the plane. Luke searched for the missing wing in the branches above, but couldn’t see it. He wondered how they’d lived through it. While stealing a wing, the tree branches must’ve slowed them down and softened the fall.
Troy pulled out several packages from the emergency bag. “Food and water rations. Least we won’t starve and hafta eat each other.”
“That’s disgusting. I’m not eating you.”
“Good, cuz I’m not eating you either. You’d taste gross.”
Luke began to shiver almost uncontrollably. He couldn’t move around like Troy and keep warm.
Troy discovered a survival blanket and covered him with it. It was silver and looked like aluminum foil. “Is that better, Luke? Doesn’t look like it’ll work, but it’s s’posed to keep you warm.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” It wasn’t better. He was still freezing his butt off, but he didn’t tell Troy. He had to do all the work and Luke couldn’t do anything but lay there like a big baby.
“Fire starting tabs! I found ‘em, Luke. Now we’ll get warm. Finally,” Troy spouted. “They better work.”
Troy found a pocket saw and all weather matches. It took him a long time to cut some branches off the tree. Luke wasn’t sure how long it took, he kept falling asleep. Every time he woke up, the pile of sticks was bigger and bigger. Then he woke up and the fire was burning high and hot next to him. He finally stopped shivering. It was getting darker and he knew it was almost nighttime. He looked around, wondering where Troy was. Then he saw him climbing out of the remains of the plane. He was carrying the flight jacket his dad had been wearing and he was crying. Luke averted his eyes so Troy wouldn’t catch him staring at him. Next to the tree sat chair cushions Troy had salvaged from the plane.
Troy wiped his cheeks on his sleeve. He looked like a warrior coming home from battle, bloody and defeated.
“I’m gonna make you a bed, Luke. The chair cushions will work as a bed. The ground is too cold.”
It was true. The cold seemed to seep into his body and make his bones ache. Luke watched Troy as he took cord from the emergency kit and tied the cushions together, forming a makeshift bed. Luke dreaded the move.
“Ready?” Troy asked.
Luke nodded, lying. No, he wasn’t ready. Absolutely not. He’d never be ready. Troy grabbed him under his armpits and moved his top half onto the cushions. Luke gritted his teeth as Troy grabbed his legs and heaved his bottom half onto the cushions, gently but quickly.
“Ahhhhhhh,” he yelled. His vision turned black and he couldn’t see for several moments as the pain slowly died down.
“Sorry, Luke. I thought it was better to do it real quick, kinda like ripping off a band-aid. It hurts too much if you take it slow.”
Troy wadded up his dad’s flight jacket and placed it under Luke’s head, giving him a pillow, and Luke nearly burst into tears. “No, it’s for you.”
“You use it. I want you to.”
Between the survival blanket, the cushions, and the fire, he actually felt warm for the first time since they’d crashed.
The bandage on Troy’s head looked as though it wasn’t soaking up any more blood. “How’s your head, Troy?”
“Doesn’t hurt. I’ll be right back. You okay?”
No, Luke wasn’t okay and neither was Troy. “Yeah.”
Troy made another trip to the ruins of the Cessna. He returned with a duffel stuffed with clothing he’d collected: his, Luke’s, and his father’s. He laid them out in a crumpled pile on the ground next to Luke.
“That’ll be my bed,” Troy told him. “We gotta share the emergency blanket.” Troy rummaged through the pile of clothing. He found a sweatshirt and a heavy sweater that had belonged to his father. He donned the sweatshirt, then placed the sweater on over it. “My dad always says layers are the best way to keep warm.” The clothes were too big for him, but the added bulk provided extra warmth. Troy grabbed another one of his dad’s sweaters and tucked it around Luke’s torso, then re-zipped his coat and replaced the survival blanket.
“Thanks, Troy.”
Troy kept busy, as if stopping meant he’d have to face reality. He opened small packets from the emergency supplies and handed Luke two pills. “I found painkillers.”
Next, Troy took out a metal cup from the emergency bag, filled it with fresh snow, and held it by the fire, until the snow had melted and the water was warm.
“I’m saving the good water for the middle of the night. Drink this, Luke.”
“No, you drink first. You’ve gotta be freezing.”
“I’ve been moving around. I’m fine. You drink it. I’m not gonna let you die,” Troy said, sounding angry.
Troy had just lost his father and Luke couldn’t imagine how he must be feeling right now. But he wasn’t going to make things worse for Troy by dying on him too. Luke drank the water and the warmth seemed to spread right down to his toes.
Troy tore open an emergency energy bar with his teeth and handed it to Luke. “Here, it’s supposed to fill you up.”
Troy downed an energy bar too and they both stared into the fire.
“A rescue plane will come for us, Troy. They’ll be here soon.”
“Yeah.” Troy started to cry again and Luke did too. But neither of them made a sound.
“Dad told me planes have Emergency Locater Transmitters. It helps people find a plane that has crashed. A radio signal will help them find us.” Troy stared at the huge mountain face. It was like nature had built a rock wall. “You think the signal can get through rock?”
Luke wasn’t sure. “Of course it can.” At least he hoped it could.
“Do you think it’s still working? I tried the transceiver. It’s broke.” Troy added a few more branches to the fire.
“Yeah, those kinds of things are supposed to work after a crash. That’s what they’re for. Otherwise they’d be stupid.”
“It’s getting dark. We’ve got one flashlight and a couple of light sticks.”
“We’ll be all right,” Luke told him, trying to convince himself too.
“I found some long branches with pine needles on the end. If wild animals come, I’ll light them and scare ‘em away. I won’t let ‘em eat you.”
“That was smart, Troy.”
“Gotta do something. I can’t just sit here and be a cry baby. It’s too cold.”
“Sorry ‘bout your dad. I really liked him. He was nice and all.”
Troy stared into the fire. “Yeah, he was the best. He read to me every night before I went to bed. I know I’m too old for that stuff, but I liked it.”
Luke swallowed the lump in his throat. “That’s cool.”
“He was fun too, ya know. Whenever we drove in the mountains and we reached the summit, he’d always make us all yell ‘summit!’ at the top of our lungs.”
“Summit,” Luke said with waning strength. “I think we’re there.”
“Yeah. We’re way up high.” Troy wiped at his eyes angrily. “Whenever we arrived home after a trip, he’d say ‘home-again-finnegan.’ I don’t know why. It was just a thing he always said.” Troy frowned. “Guess I’ll never know why now.”
Luke said nothing. Troy needed to speak about his dad and that was okay with him.
“Me and my dad, we had the same middle name. His name is Errett Guy Kelley and I’m Troy Guy Kell
ey. It’s a family name. I always liked sharing a name with him, you know?”
Luke nodded in response.
“Whenever my dad sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to someone he sang, ‘Without a shirt,’ at the end. It always made me laugh. I never asked him why he did it.”
Luke smiled. “I always wondered why your dad did that. Maybe your mom knows.”
“Maybe. Why didn’t I ask him when I had the chance? I should’ve asked him.”
Luke remained silent. He didn’t know the answer.
“When I was little he always gave me pony rides on his knee. At the end, he’d say, ‘Shave and a haircut, two bits.’ Then he’d straighten his leg and I’d slip down as if I was on a slide.”
“Shave and a haircut, two bits?”
“It was some jingle from an old commercial or something like that. His grandpa used to do it, so my dad did too. He used the same tune from ‘Shave and a haircut’ whenever he knocked on a door. If we heard that knock, we knew it was my dad. It was like our secret code or somethin’.”
Luke remembered hearing that knock just this morning as Mr. Kelley had knocked on their hotel room door. Troy had immediately said, “Oh, that’s my dad.” Luke hadn’t given it a second thought.
“On Christmas, my dad always wore a red vest and handed out the presents. He made us open them one at a time. It made Christmas last longer.”
Christmas would be very different this year. If they survived to even be there. All Luke wanted this year was to actually be home for Christmas. If he made it home, he wouldn’t ask for one more thing.
“Every time I accidently left the light on in my room, he’d turn it off and say, ‘That’s okay, Troy, I got your light.’ It was a nice way of saying, ‘Hey, you left the light on in your room.’ He liked to save money on the electricity bill and stuff.”
“Grown-ups always worry ‘bout money.”
“My mom’s gonna do all the worrying by herself now. She won’t like that.”
“She’s not alone. She has you.”
“Not the same thing.”